


one, two, purple and blue

by carrythesky



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, In which Frank and Jessica are unlikely BFFs, With a little Kastle and Trishica thrown in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrythesky/pseuds/carrythesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sooooooo ever since finishing Daredevil S2, I’ve had this headcanon that if Jessica and Frank ever met, they would be best friends.  The amount of sass and sarcasm that would fly between these two…it’s just too fun not to explore!  There might be a part two that follows this…I haven’t decided yet. :)  Thanks for reading!!</p>
    </blockquote>





	one, two, purple and blue

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooo ever since finishing Daredevil S2, I’ve had this headcanon that if Jessica and Frank ever met, they would be best friends. The amount of sass and sarcasm that would fly between these two…it’s just too fun not to explore! There might be a part two that follows this…I haven’t decided yet. :) Thanks for reading!!

“Meeting on rooftops, really? God, could you vigilantes _be_ any more dramatic?” she says as she emerges from the stairwell onto the roof. He’s looking towards the skyline, his back to her, but he glances over his shoulder at the sound of her voice.

 

“Says the woman with super strength and the power of flight.” He takes a sip of coffee - _Jesus, is this man ever uncaffeinated?_ \- and saunters over to her.

 

“For the last time, Francis,” she says, smirking at the way he cringes when she uses his birth name. “It’s less like flight and more like really, _really_ high jumping.”

 

“Hmm.” His eyes drop to the ground, and she notices his trigger finger tapping restlessly against his leg. _Just ask me, you idiot,_ she thinks. _Ask me how it went with Karen_.

 

She had grossly underestimated Karen Page. The two had finally met over drinks at Josie’s (one of her new favorite watering holes), courtesy of Foggy Nelson (one of her new favorite people, and the only person at Hogarth’s firm she could stand to talk to for more than thirty seconds). Jessica thought she’d had Karen pegged from the second she walked into the bar, but she’d been surprised to discover that beneath the perfectly curled hair and fitted pencil skirt, there was a woman who didn’t take shit from anybody, a woman who knew how to get what she wanted.

 

Naturally, they’d become fast friends.

 

“Our meeting with Hogarth’s client went well,” she says now, attempting to throw Frank a bone. “She and Foggy both think we can build a strong case against Roxxon. And Karen has a few leads she wants to follow up on.”

 

He’s silent, turning once again to stare out over the vast expanse of city. His eyes are distant, vacant, and she knows what thoughts are churning inside that thick skull of his.

 

She sighs. “You two should just bang already. Get it out of your system.”

 

He bows his head, takes another swig of coffee. “We do girl talk now, Jones?” 

 

She shoves her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, shrugging nonchalantly. “Alright, I get it. You don’t want to talk about your weird personal shit, it’s none of my business. Just thought I’d let you know that it’s the huge-ass elephant in the room between the two of you, and it’s starting to piss me off.”

 

“Yeah?” Frank says, eyebrows arching. “What about you?” When she fixes him with a blank stare, he shakes his head and grins over the rim of his coffee cup. “C’mon, don’t play dumb with me. Your friend, the blonde one.” To her supreme horror, he _waggles_ his eyebrows.

 

“Okay, first of all, _never_ do that again,” she says, wrinkling her nose with disgust. “And second, Trish and I are just friends.”

 

He lets out a dry chuckle and says, “Sounds a lot like the pot calling the kettle black.”

 

“Whatever,” she snarks back, rolling her eyes. “Look, her taste in booze might suck, but Karen’s a nice lady. Interested, not interested…just let her know sooner than later, okay? That’s my advice.”

 

—–

 

The next time she pays Karen a visit, she’s surprised to see that he actually listened to her.

 

The apartment door is slightly cracked when she arrives, and she can hear voices, soft and low, drifting through the open space into the hallway. She finds herself pausing, squinting her eyes and peering in through the slit between door and wall.

 

“At least a dozen news reports claiming you’re still alive,” Karen is saying, head bent over the halo of scattered documents that encircle her on the living room floor. “It’s mostly tabloid bullshit, but there’s one paper that’s offering a reward for information about the Punisher’s whereabouts.”

 

Frank snorts. He’s hunched next to her, examining the article clipping she’s clutching in her hand, and their foreheads are curved together, almost touching. “Only five hundred, huh?” he says. “Shit, I thought I put on a better show than that.”

 

“If you keep drinking all my coffee, I may just have to give them a call,” Karen says, bringing the clipping closer to her face and scanning it with determined eyes. She’s so absorbed that she doesn’t notice Frank tilt his head, turn his gaze towards her. His mouth twitches, and Jessica knows he’s struggling to keep a smile from splitting his face. _God, I think I’m going to be sick_ , she thinks. Surely this man making heart eyes at Karen Page is not the same one who puts bad guys in the ground and calls himself the Punisher. _Pathetic_. Still, her chest tightens in a not-so-unpleasant way as she watches Frank’s eyes trace Karen’s face.

 

She pulls back from the door, turns away and begins to walk down the hallway. She’ll text Karen later, apologize and make up some excuse for why she missed their meeting.

 

 _Absolutely pathetic,_ she thinks, allowing herself a small smile.


End file.
